The Road to God is full of traps,
And, what is more, devoid of maps.

The snares, moreover, can’t be found
Because they’re buried underground—

Buried in one’s own mind-stuff.
They are oneself. That’s hard enough,

But keeping focus on the Road
While clearing an obstructive load?

Impossible! In anguished grief,
a desperate heart wails for relief,

Broken down, with no one near
To render aid or even hear.

Pity not one who can’t erase
himself. Such cries will draw God’s Grace.

(m.r. 12/25/2020)
photo: Barcelona, Spain, 2016 (by m.r.)